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Don Simpson: The Rise and Fall of Hollywood’s Most Destructive Producer


A collage of pictures of Don Simpson

Before there was Harvey Weinstein there was Don Simpson and if you were to ask anyone who knew Simpson for his wildest story, and you’ll get the same response: “There are too many to choose from.” That’s how journalist Charles Fleming summed it up in High Concept: Don Simpson and the Hollywood Culture of Excess, his 1998 book about the producer’s life. “Sexual excess, drug and alcohol excess, ego excess,” Fleming said, capturing the essence of a man who wasn’t just a Hollywood player but its poster child for hedonism.


Don Simpson wasn’t just one of the architects of the high-concept blockbuster; he embodied the extremes of Hollywood in the 1980s and 1990s. Alongside his producing partner Jerry Bruckheimer, Simpson brought the world Top Gun, Beverly Hills Cop, Days of Thunder, and The Rock. But offscreen, his life was a whirlwind of drugs, insecurities, and jaw-dropping antics, some laughably absurd, others painfully dark.



Don Simpson's Myth-Maker Early Days Before Becoming a Destructive Producer

Born in Alaska to a working-class, devoutly religious family, Simpson grew up weaving stories about his youth that sounded like scenes from a movie. He claimed to have hunted moose with his bare hands as a boy and demanded a new ending to The Greatest Show on Earth after being upset by a pivotal scene, he claimed to have voiced his annoyance to the cinema projectionist. The truth? Probably less dramatic. But those tales reflected a man who would spend his career crafting reality into something shinier, louder, and more over-the-top.

Two men with matching cars
Jerry and Don with their matching Ferraris

In the 1970s, Simpson started in Warner Bros’ marketing department before joining Paramount Pictures in 1976. By 1981, he was President of Production at Paramount, overseeing films like An Officer and a Gentleman. Hollywood insiders were already taking notice. A magazine piece dubbed him one of the “Baby Moguls,” predicting he would define the next decade of filmmaking. But Simpson’s growing drug use and reckless behaviour—like passing out in his soup at the studio dining room—got him fired in 1983. Not one to be discarded, he was offered a production deal instead. Enter Jerry Bruckheimer.



A black and white photo of film producers Don Simpson and Jerry Bruckheimer
Don Simpson (L) with his collaboration partner Jerry Bruckheimer

Blockbuster Success and the High-Concept Formula

For Don Simpson the producer, teaming up with Bruckheimer was career-defining. Their first film, Flashdance (1983), was critically panned but an enormous commercial hit, raking in $201 million worldwide on a $7 million budget. The movie was a perfect example of what would become their formula: visually striking, narratively simple, and backed by hit songs. (Flashdance... What a Feeling won an Oscar and dominated MTV.)

Simpson understood how to hook an audience. Beverly Hills Cop? A streetwise Detroit cop in swanky Los Angeles. Top Gun? Fighter pilots as rock stars. The ideas were snappy, marketable, and built for mass appeal. And they worked. Beverly Hills Cop became the highest-grossing film of 1985, and Top Gun redefined the blockbuster action movie.



A Life of Excess: Jeans, Fast Cars, and Faster Drugs

Success only fed Simpson’s ego and appetites. He wasn’t just wealthy; he made sure everyone knew it. He framed million-dollar cheques as wall art, wore black Levi’s only once before tossing them, and always booked two hotel rooms—one to sleep in, the other for his designer wardrobe. He once sent an assistant to collect an all-black Ferrari Testarossa off the boat so he could be the first Californian to own one.

But these were the lighter sides of his excess. Behind the bravado, Simpson battled deep insecurities, particularly about his weight and appearance. He underwent at least ten plastic surgeries between 1988 and 1994, including a botched penis enlargement that had to be reversed. He claimed these were all rumours, but friends—and his surgeons—knew otherwise.


His drug use, which began in the 1970s, escalated alarmingly. By the 1990s, his cocaine habit was an open secret in Hollywood. He spent over $60,000 a month on prescription drugs, using aliases and multiple doctors to build a stockpile so vast it had to be arranged alphabetically. In interviews, he dismissed his addictions, claiming his only vice was food. Few believed him.


The Darker Side: Sex, Violence, and Paranoia

Simpson’s personal life was as chaotic as his professional one. Known for his brash, offensive comments—like calling Steven Spielberg “white bread” or on one occasion when, according to director Robert Altman, Simpson opposed the proposed casting of Shelley Duvall as Olive Oyl for the project Popeye by standing up at a 1979 meeting of studio executives and saying,

"Well, I wouldn't want to fuck her. And if I don't want to fuck her, she shouldn't be in the movie."

As Simpson and Bruckheimer's success grew, so did Simpson's reputation as a "party animal". He said that "next to eating and having sex, making movies is the best thing in the world". Simpson's debauched lifestyle was well known in Hollywood and has been documented in a number of sources. He was a fixture on the "Hollywood cocaine-party" circuit throughout the 1970s and '80s, and in his later years became known for throwing lavish all-night parties at his mansion. An entire chapter of the book You'll Never Make Love in This Town Again (which describes four prostitutes' stories about their sexual encounters with Hollywood celebrities) discusses his frequent sex parties and preference for S & M (some of the girls that were unfortunate enough to spend time in his company would leave his home bloodied and bruised, sometimes they'd even end up hospitalised). He also gave himself testosterone shots to boost his sex drive. According to the call girl Alexandra Datig, Simpson auditioned struggling actresses for his movies, convinced them to have sex with him, and secretly filmed their sex acts.



He wasn’t just reckless; he was paranoid. During the writing of Top Gun, Simpson barricaded himself in his home, convinced the mafia was after him. He waved an Uzi around while screenwriter Chip Proser tried to coax him out. On another occasion, he waved the same gun at a screenwriter from his roof. These weren’t isolated incidents—Simpson’s drug-fuelled delusions often left those around him in fear.

For men smiling for the camera. All except one are wearing sunglasses
Martin Lawrence, Don Simpson, Jerry Bruckheimer and Will Smith at the Bad Boys premiere

The Breakdown of a Partnership

Despite Simpson’s personal chaos, he and Bruckheimer kept delivering hits—until the failures started piling up. Days of Thunder (1990), a blatant attempt to recreate the Top Gun magic with Tom Cruise in a race car, bombed critically and financially. Simpson’s escalating drug use, mood swings, and outrageous spending strained their partnership. Days of Thunder was partly born out of Simpson’s auto-obsession. Simpson was not just a car enthusiast, but a prolific car-crasher. He once crashed a car into the side of a house, which left the car halfway stuck in the wall. As detailed in Fleming’s book, Simpson blamed his passenger, former Playboy centrefold Cathy St. George, claiming she had been behind the wheel. But St. George was dating a man with mob connections and men claiming to be mobsters turned up at Simpson’s house. They ultimately extorted him for $250,000.

Three men posing for the camera, in a black and white photo. Two of them are wearing racing overalls.
On the set of Days Of Thunder. Bruckheimer, Simpson and Tom Cruise

Simpson had made some efforts to get clean – by trying to move from street drugs to prescription drugs. He used multiple doctors, aliases, and pharmacies to procure a huge collection of meds – so many that he had to keep them in alphabetical order. Dr. Steve Ammerman, an emergency room specialist and wannabe screenwriter, moved into Simpson’s house to help Simpson with his dodgy prescription rehab. But in August 1995, Ammerman himself died in Simpson’s pool house of “multiple drug intoxication”. 


“That’s not a good sign,” says Fleming, “when the guy who’s helping you with drug and alcohol issues drops dead of drug and alcohol issues.”



By 1995, Bruckheimer had had enough. Simpson’s antics were derailing their work, and the producer finally decided to end their partnership. They agreed to finish The Rock—a high-octane action movie set on Alcatraz—before going their separate ways. Simpson’s involvement was minimal, and he didn’t live to see its release.


The End of the Road

On January 19, 1996, Simpson was found dead in the bathroom of his Bel Air mansion. Initial reports listed the cause as natural, but an autopsy revealed heart failure from a lethal cocktail of drugs. Police discovered 2,200 prescription pills in his closet, neatly organised. At the time of his death, Simpson had 21 different substances in his system, including cocaine, antidepressants, and morphine. His body was so toxic that the coroner reportedly called it the worst case in California’s history.


Simpson’s Legacy: Hollywood’s Dark Reflection

Simpson’s films, from Top Gun to The Rock, remain beloved cultural milestones. They defined an era of blockbuster filmmaking, packed with spectacle and soundtracks that are still iconic today. But his personal life has become a cautionary tale, a symbol of Hollywood’s unchecked power and the cost of excess.


Charles Fleming called Simpson

“a supercharged simple-minded creature, an Aesop’s fable on crystal meth.”

Michael Eisner, Simpson’s former boss, put it more bluntly: “I have been waiting for this call for 20 years.”

Simpson’s life followed the very three-act structure he loved in his movies: a meteoric rise, a tragic fall, and an unforgettable, if inevitable, conclusion. But while his films continue to entertain, his life story remains a stark reminder of how easily success can spiral into self-destruction.



 

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